Who You Are
by NarglesandNifflers
Summary: Thomas and Jimmy have become good friends, so Thomas can't understand why Jimmy is suddenly pushing him away. Whatever the reason, Thomas is determined not to lose the only friend he has, however hard their future will be, and however big Jimmy's secret is. Multi-chaptered fic.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: This is basically what I hope will happen in s4! It will eventually turn into a slash fic – just giving you a proper warning so it doesn't come as a nasty shock later on! :)**

Thomas still struggled to comprehend it.

He and Jimmy had been such good friends up until now. Admittedly, it had been slightly awkward at first, but they had slowly grown close. And now, suddenly, Jimmy was pushing him away.

He had hardly been aware of it at first. Of course, he had noticed that Jimmy's smiles seemed more distant, and laughs seemed more forced, and had noticed that Jimmy no longer came up to him and started a conversation. But he hadn't allowed himself to feel any kind of emotion, trying desperately to convince himself that things were fine.

However time passed, and with it, Thomas' hope. He could no longer pretend that everything was all right with he and Jimmy's friendship. Jimmy was now making sure to avoid any conversation with Thomas, and the worrying thing was, he didn't seem to care any longer if Thomas noticed. _Maybe that's what he wants, _Thomas thought. _To try and get the_ _message across to me that he regrets becoming my friend. To eventually get rid of me_.

Meanwhile, the other staff were beginning to notice the tension between the two of them as well. There had been one incident when he had entered the servants hall, and found Jimmy, Alfred and Anna, all hard at work. That was, until Jimmy spotted him. He had thrown down his cloth and scarpered, leaving Alfred staring after him in bewilderment.

"Wonder what caused him to do that," he said, glancing at Thomas. It was only a quick look, but Thomas detected the hidden meaning in it. He lowered his eyes to his mug of tea, raising it to his lips and taking a sip, trying to act as casual as possible and disguise the fact that his insides were slowly crumbling.

"Why did he do that?" he heard Alfred say, abandoning all pretence. "I thought you two were friends."

Thomas nodded, hiding his emotion. "We are. Not that it's any of your concern," he said coolly. That was the end of the conversation, although it didn't stop Anna glancing at him in concern. He exited rapidly, not in the mood for any questions.

Another time, he had been standing in the kitchen. Jimmy had entered, his blue eyes scanning the kitchen as he walked over to Alfred. As soon as he caught sight of Thomas, he had frozen and departed as quickly as possible.

"What've you been saying to him, Thomas?" Ivy asked him, looking after Jimmy's retreating figure in concern.

"Nothing," said Thomas coldly. "Nothing at all. Anyway, it's hardly my fault that Jimmy decided to leave the kitchen." Despite his cool exterior, his heart was thumping madly. This was what he had dreaded…

"But it must be something to do with you," Ivy pressed. "He always does that – whenever he sees you, he runs!"

"All right Ivy!" Mrs Patmore interjected firmly, saving Thomas the bother of replying. "That's quite enough nonsense for one day – get over here and help Daisy with the chicken!" Her eyes flickered briefly over to Thomas, who smiled at her gratefully, and left the kitchen.

He made his way along the hall, eventually finding Jimmy in the servants' hall. "Hello, Jimmy," he said pleasantly, sliding into a seat beside him.

Jimmy stiffened and smiled at him briefly, before pushing his chair back. With a sinking heart, Thomas watched him get to his feet. "I've just remembered…there's something I need to do," he murmured, before hurrying away.

Thomas didn't even bother to try and call him back. What was the point? Jimmy clearly didn't enjoy his company, and that was that. There was no point in moping over it, Thomas decided, it wouldn't change Jimmy's mind. He smiled bitterly – he must be a pretty terrible friend, as he had somehow managed to lose every single one he had ever had.

Ivy's words echoed in his head; _"What've you been saying to him, Thomas?" _ Thomas had always feared this. What if he _had_ said something that Jimmy had found awkward or offensive? He was still attracted to the man, he freely admitted it, but he had gone out of his way not to say anything to him that would hint that he_ did_ still have feelings for him.

Groaning, Thomas rested his head on the table, not caring if anyone walked in. It was all a great big mess, that's what it was.

It hurt. The thought that Jimmy no longer enjoyed his company hurt. The thought that he now had to go out of his way to avoid him hurt. And the thought that Jimmy had returned to actively _disliking_ him hurt the most. He had thought that they had overcome those obstacles after Thomas had saved Jimmy all those months ago, but now it seemed as though they were back to the start again.

**A/N: There are so many brilliant Thomas and Jimmy fics, and I know that this is nowhere near as good as them! However, I would appreciate any reviews! :)**


	2. Chapter Two

Thomas lowered himself into a seat with a sigh of relief, glad to rest his aching legs at last. Right at this moment, it felt as though the hard, wooden seat in the servants' hall was just as comfortable as one of the soft armchairs upstairs. He glanced up at the sound of someone coming in and rolled his eyes – it was O'Brien. He met her eyes briefly across the table and the two of them stared at one another for a couple of seconds, before Thomas lowered his eyes to his mug of tea. He could still feel O'Brien's eyes on him, and it made him strangely uncomfortable. His neck prickled slightly as he shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"So, what's been happening with you recently?" he heard her say. He glanced up, startled and rightly so. O'Brien hadn't spoken to him for months, yet here she was, a faint smile flickering at the corners of her lips.

"Nothing much," he replied curtly, shrugging and returning his gaze to his tea. The last thing he wanted was to become involved in a conversation with O'Brien.

"That's not what it looks like," O'Brien replied. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. " After all, you've made a new friend."

Thomas shrugged. "Suppose I have." He waited for her next words, well aware that she would have noticed that Jimmy hadn't been talking to him. Thomas's heart sank. Of course, she wasn't interested in how he was doing or whether he was happy. She was, as usual, looking to make trouble.

"What's it to you?" he added.

"Nothing. I was asking a simple question Thomas, no need to fly off the handle."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I'm wouldn't say I was 'flying off the handle.' I'm just not in the mood to be questioned by you."

O'Brien laughed. "You're a funny one, I always said you were."

Thomas raised his eyes to look at her. She looked back at him, wearing a sarcastic smile as she continued to sew, needles clicking.

"Well, I'm not here to give you all the latest gossip about me, or Jimmy, or anyone else for that matter," said Thomas firmly. "I'm sorry to disappoint you." He debated standing up and leaving, however, he didn't want to give her the satisfaction that he had left because of her.

O'Brien raised an eyebrow. "You know me too well, Thomas. But I'm not looking for gossip, surprisingly."

Thomas laughed sarcastically. "I'm afraid I find that rather hard to believe."

"I just wanted to tell you, I know why Jimmy has been avoiding you."

Thomas's stomach gave an involuntarily lurch, however, he kept his face devoid of all expression. "I see. And will you tell me why?"

"He's been using you, using you to try and get promoted," O'Brien told him simply. "I heard him telling Alfred the other day. He doesn't like you, but he wants to get advice from you, so he can improve at his job and impress Mr Carson. I'm only telling you because I don't think it's right that he's been using you like this."

Thomas felt as though someone had punched him in the face. He stared at O'Brien in shock and horror. A small voice at the back of his head told him not to listen to her, told him that she was lying, yet he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. _This couldn't really be true, could it?_

As she lowered her head to her sewing, he caught sight of the smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips and suddenly came to his senses. This was _O'Brien _he was talking to. He knew O'Brien – she didn't like him, and wanted to make trouble. Of course she did. He suddenly laughed and she looked up sharply.

"I don't see what's so funny," she said, raising an eyebrow in distaste.

"Do you really think that I would fall for that? Clearly you're bored and want to make trouble, but remember that we were friends for years and I know you well. You even said so yourself earlier!"

"Think what you like," O'Brien replied, returning to her sewing and looking supremely unconcerned. "I'm only telling you what I heard, and if you don't want to believe me, that's your choice."

Alfred entered at this point, with Jimmy himself right behind him. Jimmy faltered slightly when he caught sight of Thomas, but he soon picked up his pace and followed Alfred over to O'Brien, sitting opposite Thomas and avoiding his eyes.

"What're you two talking about?" Alfred asked brightly.

"Just having a nice chat, that's all," O'Brien replied. "A nice chat between old friends." Thomas glared at her, the look not going unnoticed by Alfred.

"Are you alright Mr Barrow?"

"Fine," said Thomas quickly, glancing briefly towards Jimmy, who was staring studiously at his lap.

"Oh." Alfred beamed. "That's good." He seemed in a good mood about something, Thomas noted, probably because he had finally had a conversation with Ivy without anyone else butting in. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Alfred, shouldn't we be going through to the kitchen now to take the food up-" Jimmy began.

"No, of course not," Alfred interrupted. "We've still got about half an hour until we have to take the food upstairs."

Jimmy frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Keen to get away, are you Jimmy?" said O'Brien lightly. "Well now, I wonder why that could be." Her eyes flickered towards Thomas, who gritted his teeth, aware that she was trying to wind him up, and taking a gulp of tea to stop himself from rising to the bait.

"No reason," said Jimmy, shrugging.

"How has your day been today, Jimmy?" Thomas asked him, making an attempt at casual conversation.

"Fine," Jimmy replied simply. Thomas waited, but he didn't expand on his answer or make any attempt to continue talking to Thomas, not that Thomas had really expected him too. He felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest, but hid this from O'Brien who was watching him beadily.

Alfred turned to Jimmy and began blabbing on about Ivy, which was something Jimmy had always told Thomas he found annoying. However he seemed glad at the excuse to turn away from Thomas, which hurt more than Thomas would have liked to admit, even to himself.

O'Brien leaned forward slightly. "So, are you going to follow my advice or not?"

Thomas snorted. _"Advice?"_

She sighed, impatient. "Will you confront him about it?"

"Why would I? I don't believe a word of it!" Thomas snapped.

"Do as you wish," O'Brien replied coolly. "If you don't want to talk to him about it-"

"Talk to who about what?"

Thomas could have hit Alfred. Why was the idiot so nosy? He looked towards O'Brien, who seemed unconcerned.

"I was just giving Mr Barrow a bit of advice."

"What about?"

O'Brien hesitated slightly. "About a conversation I heard you and Jimmy having yesterday."

Alfred glanced at Jimmy, bewildered. Jimmy, too, seemed mildly surprised.

"I don't know what we were saying that was-" He stopped abruptly, comprehension slowly dawning on his face.

"What're you meaning?" Alfred asked O'Brien, clearly still bewildered.

"The conversation about Mr Barrow," said O'Brien clearly.

Thomas felt a feeling of dread welling up inside him as he glanced towards Jimmy, who was staring at O'Brien in shock.

"How did you-" he began.

"I heard you both from in here. I wasn't eavesdropping!" O'Brien added defensively.

"So it's true," said Thomas quietly. "You did say that." He felt numb, cold, almost as though he had no emotions left.

Jimmy opened his mouth, but Thomas had already stumbled to his feet, not caring that they could all see how distressed he was, and left the servants hall. There was a sudden prickling feeling at the back of his eyes, and he blinked angrily.

He distantly heard a chair scrape back and someone came hurrying after him. "Mr Barrow!" It was Jimmy's voice.

Thomas swung round, and, at the sight of him, felt a sudden, white hot flash of anger rise inside him.

"I don't-" he began in a harsh tone.

"Wait!" Jimmy interrupted. "I need to talk to you about this; there's been a misunderstanding-"

"I have work to do, even if you haven't!" Thomas snapped. "I don't have time to stand around and chat." He turned and stormed off.

It was only once he had rounded the corner that he felt his anger ebbing away, leaving only pain. And hurt. He leant his head against the cool wall, closing his eyes, refusing to allow the tears to fall.

_Looks like that's the end of our friendship for good then…_

**A/N: I posted chapter two for this yesterday, but I deleted it because I was really unhappy with it when I read it over again. Not really sure if this is much better to be honest, but please tell me what you think! Thank you so much to the people who reviewed, favourited or followed the first chapter – I really, really appreciate it! :)**


	3. Chapter Three

The next few days were torture. Mrs O'Brien spent most of the time casting smug, knowing looks in Thomas's direction, Alfred kept staring at Thomas as though waiting for something to happen, although Thomas wasn't entirely sure what, and Carson seemed to have the staff working harder than ever.

The only thing Thomas found vaguely amusing (in a bizarre sort of way) was that he and Jimmy's positions were now completely reversed: Thomas spent most of his time avoiding the young footman, and Jimmy repeatedly tried to get Thomas on his own to talk to him. However Thomas, still hurt more than he let on after 'the incident' as he had come to refer to it in his head, always made an excuse and escaped, usually to go and hide outside in the place he and O'Brien had used to stand and smoke. He felt a strange, twisted sense of pleasure whenever he walked away from Jimmy, remembering bitterly the many times Jimmy had done the same to him, and reminding himself of the fact that Jimmy had blatantly _told_ Alfred that he had been using Thomas.

However, he couldn't avoid Jimmy forever, as much as he would have liked to. It was when the servants were all eating their dinner that Jimmy spoke to him, his blue eyes a little nervous but determined.

"Thomas, I know you won't talk to me when no one else is around, so we might as well talk here-"

"That's Mr Barrow to you, Jimmy," Thomas replied curtly.

Jimmy flinched slightly but nodded all the same. "Anyway, I need to talk to you about what happened. You know, the thing with O'Brien-"

"I am perfectly aware as to which incident you are referring, thank you Jimmy," said Thomas clearly.

Jimmy cleared his throat. "Yes. Well, I'm not going to deny that I said…those things to Alfred, but I didn't mean them. I-"

Thomas shook his head to cut him off. "Don't tell me now. We'll talk later." He nodded pointedly towards the middle of the table where O'Brien sat, clearly having noticed them talking. Although her head was lowered, her hands that were clutching her knife and fork had stopped moving and Thomas knew that she would be straining her ears in an attempt to hear some of the conversation.

Jimmy seemed to understand, glancing down the table at O'Brien before turning to look at Thomas and nodding. "But don't think you can get out of it," he said quietly, before turning his attention back to his meal.

Xxx

"So what's this about then?" said Thomas, suppressing a sigh of resignation as Jimmy shrugged, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot. It was rare to see the confident footman like this, Thomas reflected, in fact, he didn't think he'd ever seen Jimmy display any outward signs of insecurity or self-doubt. Now, though, he was the complete opposite of his usual arrogant self.

"I…" he began hesitantly. "Well, I've wanted to talk to you about this for a long time, ever since O'Brien-"

"Can you just get on with it?" Thomas interrupted tersely.

"Right, sorry," said Jimmy, looking rather flustered. Thomas wondered if this actually _was _Jimmy standing before him, or if it was his identical twin. _His identical twin with a very different personality,_ Thomas thought wryly.

"Like I said earlier, I admit that I _did _tell Alfred that I made friends with you to try and use your advice to get a promotion, but I didn't mean it!" Thomas had to fight not to wince as Jimmy spoke – the mere thought that Jimmy had told Alfred this, whether he meant it or not, hurt horribly.

"If you didn't mean it, I fail to see why you said it in the first place," he replied coolly, inwardly praising himself for sounding calm, which was the complete opposite of how he felt.

"Well, he kept questioning me about why we'd made friends!" said Jimmy earnestly, and Thomas was surprised to see a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "I had to tell him something…"

"Wouldn't it have made more sense for you to tell him the truth?" said Thomas contemptuously. Despite his scornful tone, his heart was thumping madly, and he took a deep, steadying breath, hoping that he looked perfectly cool on the outside and knowing how triumphant Jimmy would probably be if he knew of the raging emotions Thomas was currently experiencing.

"But he was asking me if we-" Jimmy broke off. "Well, he was asking me stupid questions, you know what Alfred's like…"

"What was he asking you?" said Thomas impatiently, his heart rate speeding up even more, if that was currently possible.

"Going on about if we are, well, more than friends I guess." Jimmy muttered this, and he didn't meet Thomas's eyes. His cheeks were flooded with colour.

"Oh." Thomas couldn't think of anything else to say. "Well, I suppose that was quite…awkward…"

"Yes," Jimmy mumbled. "But I didn't mean what I said; I was only saying it to shut him up."

Thomas was silent, thinking over what Jimmy had just said. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with…something else. He couldn't get rid of the thought that Jimmy had said something important, significant, but he couldn't think of what it was, or why it seemed so major…

"So, I-" Jimmy began.

"That's why you've been avoiding me!" Thomas suddenly blurted out as it hit him. "To stop Alfred going on about our friendship!"

Jimmy shook his head. "That isn't why." He turned away, as though he was about to leave the room.

"Wait!"

Jimmy glanced round, alarm written over his face. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said-"

"Never mind that!" said Thomas impatiently. "If you haven't been avoiding me because of Alfred, then why _have_ you been? You need to tell me Jimmy, it's only fair."

"It's not as simple as that," Jimmy mumbled, shifting awkwardly under Thomas's gaze and refusing to meet his eyes.

Thomas glared at him. "You can't just leave now, not when you're going to go back to avoiding me and it will be impossible for me to have a simple conversation with you!"

Jimmy stared fixedly at the ground. "I can't tell you." Thomas was surprised to hear that he sounded close to tears.

"You need to find a way to tell me," he pleaded, stepping forward. "Ignoring me isn't going to help."

"It will make the problem go away," said Jimmy hoarsely. "Trust me, if you knew what it was, you would want to avoid me too."

The feeling of relief from earlier was replaced with unease. "Come on, it can't be that bad!" said Thomas with (admittedly rather forced) brightness. His anger at Jimmy that he had been harbouring for the last few days seemed to have evaporated.

"Is it me?" he asked Jimmy suddenly. "Have I been…making you feel uncomfortable, or-"

"No!" Jimmy interrupted at once. "It isn't your fault – don't let yourself think it is!"

Thomas nodded, believing him instantly, although he admitted to himself rather dolefully that Jimmy could probably tell him anything at all and he'd believe it. He still found it hard to believe that the younger man was capable of any cruelty, however ridiculous he knew that was. It struck him that Jimmy was the only person who he could never stay angry with for long, maybe explaining the fact that he had been so quick to forgive Jimmy earlier.

"I need to go," said Jimmy quietly, making his way towards the door.

Thomas shook himself out of his thoughts and grabbed Jimmy's arm, before hastily letting go, noting Jimmy's expression.

"Don't go until you've told me what the problem is." He had meant to sound firm, meant for it to sound like an order, but it ended up coming out as more of a desperate plea.

Jimmy hesitated. "Meet me back here tonight, after everyone has gone to bed. We'll talk then." At Thomas's questioning look, he added, "I need some time to prepare myself."

Thomas nodded slowly. "As long as you promise to turn up."

"I promise," said Jimmy, smiling briefly at him before leaving the room.

Thomas suppressed the urge to groan as the door shut. Although pleased that Jimmy was finally going to tell him what was wrong, the approaching night currently felt like years away.

**A/N: Thanks a lot to the people who reviewed chapter two – it always brightens up my day if I get a review! **


	4. Chapter Four

"Mr Barrow?"

Thomas glanced round at the sound of his name, and tried to suppress the surprise that welled up inside him as his eyes landed on one of the (what seemed like many) hall boys. He had only arrived at Downton a couple of weeks ago, but the two men had barely exchanged a single word with one another. Thomas avoided the hall boys on principle, and he regarded the boy before him with an air of impatience and superiority.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a tone of forced civility, resisting the urge to sneer. He didn't even know this boy's name, although he vaguely recalled hearing him being addressed by Carson as 'Charlie.' He decided to refer to him as Charlie anyway, regardless if that was his name or not.

"Do you know where you get the polish for the boots?" Charlie asked, running a hand through his dark hair and smiling ruefully. "I still don't quite know where everything is."

"I-" Thomas began, but the rest of his sentence died on his throat as he caught sight of Jimmy in the distance. As had happened several times since he and Jimmy's conversation, the realisation that tonight Jimmy would _finally_ tell him what had been bothering him came flooding back…

"Mr Barrow?" he heard Charlie ask in confusion.

Annoyed to be snapped out of his thoughts, Thomas tore his eyes away from Jimmy and, with a great effort, focused on the current conversation. "Err, in the cupboard in the servant's hall," he answered distractedly.

"Thank you," Charlie replied gratefully.

Thomas's only answer was a curt nod, before turning to continue on his way.

"Mr Barrow?" he heard Charlie ask again and he turned round once more, suppressing the urge to groan.

"I'm rather busy, Charlie," he said pointedly. Judging by the fact that the boy didn't react with confusion when he was referred to as 'Charlie,' Thomas assumed that it must be his name.

If Charlie picked up on his impatience, he didn't show it. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what cupboard you mean."

Thomas gritted his teeth. "This one!" he said, entering the servant's hall and pointing at the cupboard rather more aggressively than he had intended.

An expression of alarm flitted across Charlie's face. "Right. Sorry. Thank you, Mr Barrow."

"Has no one ever shown you where the polish is kept?" Thomas asked suddenly. "Surely you must have had to polish boots before?"

Charlie hesitated, his cheeks colouring slightly. "Well, yes, they have, but I…I keep forgetting. I have a bad memory," he added as way of explanation.

Much to his surprise, Thomas felt a small flicker of sympathy. He could remember very well what it had been like when he had first arrived at Downton, and could certainly remember the way he used to constantly forget things in those first few weeks. He had several, rather unpleasant, memories of Carson telling him off in front of the rest of the staff for trivial misdemeanours, such as ripping his jacket or losing his glove.

"You'll be fine once you get used to being here," he found himself telling Charlie, speaking rather abruptly but with a small measure of kindness in his voice. "I was always forgetting things when I first arrived here."

"Tha-" Charlie began, looking slightly overcome, but the rest of his sentence was drowned by Carson's booming voice.

"Come along Charlie, Mr Barrow; no time to stand around gossiping."

With a quick nod to Charlie, Thomas left the servant's hall and collided almost at once with a sullen looking Jimmy.

"You alright?" Thomas asked in surprise, stepping backwards to survey Jimmy properly.

"Fine," Jimmy replied coolly, avoiding Thomas's eyes.

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "You don't look it."

"I'm bloody _fine!"_ Jimmy hissed viciously, clenching his fists and glaring at Thomas, before pushing past him into the servant's hall, rendering Thomas temporarily speechless.

"Well, I'm sorry for being concerned," he muttered to himself, feeling rather stung, however much he would have hated to admit it. Shaking his head, he made his way down the corridor, trying to push all thoughts of Jimmy out of his mind.

Xxx

"Where's Jimmy?" was the first thing Thomas asked as soon as he entered the servant's hall for dinner that evening. All the servants except for Jimmy were assembled, and every head in the room turned in his direction as he spoke, regarding him quizzically.

Carson's eyebrows shot up. "And why do you wish to know that?"

Mrs Hughes caught his eye and shook her head almost imperceptibly. "I sent Jimmy to bed," she informed Thomas gently. "He was looking rather unwell."

"Oh!" said Thomas blankly. "I see." He lowered himself into a seat, and felt a rush of relief as the rest of the servant's returned to their conversations. He could still feel O'Brien's eyes on him however, and he stared steadfastly in the opposite direction.

He remained silent for most of the meal, as his thoughts were full of Jimmy. _Was he faking his illness?_ Thomas's heart sank as he realised that he probably was. Of course, Jimmy would be trying to get out of their meeting tonight, despite the fact that he had _promised _to turn up. Thomas felt his insides boil with anger, and his grip on his cutlery tightened. Was Jimmy _ever _going to actually stay true to his promises?

It struck him that Jimmy might genuinely be unwell, after all, he had definitely looked it earlier. Although, Thomas reminded himself, he had looked more sulky than ill.

"Thomas?" Mrs Hughes nudged his arm. "Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet through dinner."

Thomas couldn't help smiling, genuinely touched at the concern in her eyes. "I'm fine," he told her in what he hoped was a convincing tone.

She nodded slowly. "Well, if there_ is_ anything wrong, I trust you know that you can always come to me?"

Thomas's smile grew. "Thank you, Mrs Hughes. I appreciate that."

It was true that he appreciated her kindness, but it didn't stop him worrying about Jimmy.

**A/N: I'm sorry this chapter wasn't very interesting! The next chapter will definitely have more of Jimmy in it. :) And I promise I included the part with Charlie for a reason!**

**Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed this – I always get very excited whenever I get a review :)**


	5. Chapter Five

Thomas's eyes scanned the servant's hall the next morning, searching for Jimmy. Relief flooded through him as he spotted the blond footman sitting next to Alfred. He slid into a seat opposite Jimmy, who was glaring at the table, ignoring Alfred's attempts at conversation.

"Feeling better than?" said Thomas, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Jimmy shrugged, keeping his gaze focused on the table. "A bit," he said curtly.

Thomas sighed. "What's wrong with you?"

"He's been like that with me as well," Alfred told Thomas gravely, reaching for a slice of toast.

Thomas nodded absentmindedly, already running through plans on how he could speak to Jimmy on his own. He tried to catch the other man's eye to convey the message _'we need to talk,'_ but Jimmy seemed to be set on ignoring him.

Thomas waited with increasing impatience until Jimmy finally finished his breakfast. He kept his eyes on his own, empty plate and attempted to act casual as Jimmy stood up and left the hall, his walk quick and jerky, as though he knew Thomas was going to follow him.

_You're certainly right about that, Jimmy, _Thomas thought inwardly as he got to his feet at almost exactly the same time as Alfred and followed the footman from the hall.

Jimmy had disappeared, which Thomas had already anticipated. He glanced briefly into the kitchen as he passed it, but could only see Daisy, Ivy and Mrs Patmore, all working flat out despite the fact that it was still early in the morning.

"Daisy, Ivy!" he heard Mrs Patmore's voice ring out. "Hurry up and get those in the oven _now! _Are you expecting his Lordship to wait all day to eat them?_"_

Rolling his eyes, Thomas continued down the corridor, glancing left and right in search of Jimmy. About ten minutes had passed before he finally caught sight of him walking briskly down a long corridor.

"Jimmy!" Thomas hissed, glancing around briefly for Carson before running down the corridor to catch him up. "We need to talk about yesterday and your 'illness.'"

Jimmy scowled at him. "Will you just leave me alone?"

"No!" Thomas exclaimed. "You told me yesterday that you were going to tell me what's been bothering you for months, and you didn't! Of course I'm not going to bloody leave you alone!"

"I was genuinely ill yesterday," said Jimmy angrily, although his voice wavered slightly and he didn't quite meet Thomas's eyes.

"I'm sure you were," said Thomas sceptically. "But you're better now, and you're going to tell me _right this minute_ what's wrong with you!"

"I have work to do," said Jimmy sharply, and he swung round to leave. Quick as lightning, Thomas grabbed hold of his arm and felt the now-familiar swoop of butterflies in his stomach, causing him to hastily release it.

"You're going to tell me _now,"_ he said firmly. "I don't care if you don't want to. You promised to tell me last night, and you didn't. So, tell me, what's been bothering you?"

Jimmy stared at him, his eyes wide. Thomas raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Go on."

The footman's shocked expression slowly dissolved into amusement, and he suddenly laughed. "You think it's simple, don't you? Trust me, it isn't something I can just casually tell you in the corridor."

"You seemed perfectly willing to tell me last night," said Thomas coolly.

Jimmy snorted. "I didn't want to tell you – I never wanted to tell you. I only said I would to stop you going on about it."

"Well, if you tell me now, I won't go on about it anymore," said Thomas impatiently.

Jimmy shook his head. "You will. Because if I tell you, _everything _will change between us, Thomas. I mean it."

Thomas ignored the flicker of nerves he felt at these words. "Well, it can't get any worse than it is now," he said, forcing himself to sound casual, but aware that there was an element of bitterness in his voice.

"It's better if we don't remain friends," said Jimmy in a low voice, his eyes focused on the ground. "It's better this way."

Thomas's heart clenched. "You don't really mean that," he heard himself saying hoarsely.

Jimmy swallowed. "I do." He raised his head to meet Thomas's eyes. "We can't stay friends."

Thomas felt as though Jimmy had hit him. "Does this have something to do with your bad mood yesterday?" he asked, as the despair slowly settled over him like a black cloud. "It must be – you weren't acting like this until yesterday, after I'd finished talking to that hall boy!

Jimmy's face darkened. "I've been thinking this for a long time," he began, his tone unconvincing.

"If you _have _been regretting your decision to become my friend, why didn't you tell me yesterday?" Thomas snapped, anger overcoming his misery. "What have I done wrong?" He was only dimly aware that he was beginning to shout.

"I…nothing, I don't know!" said Jimmy desperately, turning around once again to leave.

"Don't just walk away!" Thomas snarled, stepping in front of Jimmy and blocking his path. "This is ridiculous – just talk to me about why you've suddenly decided not to be my friend, and _tell me why you've been avoiding me!"_

"I have work to do!" Jimmy snapped.

"So have I!" Thomas shouted. "But I'm not leaving until you stop being so pathetic, and tell me what's wrong!"

Jimmy opened his mouth in anger, but was interrupted by Carson, who came striding down the corridor looking furious.

"_Boys?_ What is all this noise I've been hearing? Don't you have work to do?"

"Yes, Mr Carson," said Jimmy quickly.

"Sorry, Mr Carson," Thomas added.

Carson towered over them, wearing a heated expression. "Don't let me catch you two _bellowing _like that again!"

"Yes, I'm sorry," Jimmy mumbled. Thomas echoed his apologies, struggling to look contrite whilst the indignation and anger continued to burn inside him like fire.

Carson nodded curtly. "Come along, James," he said, sweeping off down the corridor. "You will be needed in the kitchens now."

Jimmy scurried along behind him, leaving Thomas glaring after him, his guilty expression he had worn in front of Carson melting away as soon as the butler's back was turned.

_I'll find Jimmy later, _Thomas decided firmly. _I have to._

However, the day passed by and Thomas didn't even catch a glimpse of Jimmy. The footman was clearly avoiding him, Thomas was sure of that. _The coward,_ Thomas couldn't help thinking bitterly. He failed to see what Jimmy hoped to gain by avoiding him and refusing to tell him his 'secret,' whatever it was.

_It sounds ominous, that's for sure._

_Although if it _would_ change everything between us if he told me, it might be in a good way?_

_No,_ Thomas decided firmly. If it was something good, something that would maybe strengthen their friendship instead of weakening it, Jimmy would tell him. He would have no reason not to.

_I'll find out what it is eventually._

For the first time since he and Jimmy's argument, Thomas felt a sense of determination. Jimmy wouldn't be able to hide forever. He would discover what was bothering him, he _had_ to.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to rest until he did.

**A/N: Thanks again to the people who have reviewed this – I know I always say this, but I really do appreciate it! :)**


	6. Chapter Six

It had been several days since Thomas had talked to Jimmy, and he had barely seen the footman around the house since their last conversation. From what he _had_ seen of him, Jimmy seemed rather miserable, and was acting far quieter than usual, often avoiding joining in conversations and spending far less time with Alfred, or Ivy, or anyone else he usually spoke to. Thomas hadn't bothered speaking to him yet, as the last thing he wanted was to show the anxiety and misery he felt at losing Jimmy as a friend. He didn't want to give Jimmy the satisfaction of knowing how much Thomas had valued him as a friend, as Jimmy clearly hadn't valued _him._

_I need to show him that I'm getting on with my life_, Thomas thought decisively as he walked down one of the long corridors in the servant's quarters. _I don't want to act-_

His train of thoughts were broken as he neared the end of the corridor. He could hear the voices before he rounded the corner. Both of them were raised and angry, and he had a horrible suspicion that he recognised one of them.

Slowly edging round the corner and trying to stay out of sight, his heart sank as he was met with the sight of Jimmy and Charlie the hall boy, standing together in the deserted corridor and arguing so loudly he was surprised no one else had heard them.

"If you just showed me where it was-" he heard Charlie begin to say.

"Why are you asking me?" Jimmy snapped. "Go and ask _Mr Barrow!" _There was a bitter undertone in his voice as he spat out Thomas's name.

"Well I would if I knew where he was!" Charlie retorted.

Jimmy laughed humourlessly. "Of course you would."

"Look, just tell me where it-"

"I don't know!" Jimmy snapped. "Don't ask me again, go and ask Mr-"

"Don't worry, I won't be asking you again!" said Charlie in evident disgust.

"That's fine with me," Jimmy muttered, shoving Charlie aside and making his way down the hall, leaving Charlie glaring after him.

Without stopping to think, Thomas made his way over to Charlie, who wore an expression torn between relief and surprise when he spotted him. "Jimmy!" Thomas called, his voice full of authority. "Come back here."

Jimmy swung round in shock. "Wha-what are you doing here?"

"Other people are allowed to walk down this corridor as well as you, Jimmy," said Thomas smoothly.

Jimmy glared at him but made no attempt to argue, much to Thomas's relief.

"Come here," he repeated.

Jimmy walked with deliberate slowness down the corridor towards him. Thomas was careful not to show any frustration, in fact, he made sure to keep his face devoid of all expression.

_Don't want him to know he's annoying me..._

"What was all that about?" he asked calmly, as Jimmy came to a halt beside Charlie.

"I asked him where something was, and he started yelling at me!" said Charlie, flashing Jimmy a look of anger.

"I wasn't yelling at him!" said Jimmy indignantly.

Thomas sighed. "You're both acting like little children. Honestly, the two of you sound as though you're about six."

Jimmy scowled at his shoes. Charlie looked rather indignant.

"But Mr Barrow, he were rude to me for no reason-"

"I don't care," said Thomas wearily. "Just go away and do your work, both of you, and don't let me catch you arguing again!"

Charlie nodded meekly and scurried off. Jimmy cast Thomas a look of intense anger, and turned to continue down the corridor. Something about his expression annoyed Thomas even more.

"Jimmy!" Thomas snapped. The footman turned, now wearing a sour look.

"What do you want?"

"Don't look at me like that," said Thomas sharply. "I'm only doing my job."

"Look at you like what?" said Jimmy with a scowl. "I don't know what you're going on about."

Thomas sighed. "Why are you purposely trying to be difficult?"

Jimmy's only answer was a shrug.

"What _were_ you both arguing about?" Thomas couldn't help asking.

Jimmy's scowl deepened. "It was nothing, he was just being stupid."

"Sound like you were being equally stupid," said Thomas quietly.

Jimmy raised his eyebrows mockingly. "That's right, stick up for a_ hall boy."_

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Thomas in surprise.

Jimmy laughed bitterly. "You, sticking up for a hall boy who you barely know. Didn't think I'd ever see you being nice to someone like that."

"Thank you," said Thomas sarcastically.

"No, I mean it," said Jimmy, and there was something in his expression that made Thomas falter. "You were being ever so nice to him that time he asked you where the polish was. You seem to have taken a liking to him."

Thomas stared at him. "Jimmy, what are you talking about? You're acting like I'm best friends with him-"

"Well, aren't you?"

_"No!"_ Thomas exclaimed. "I barely know him! We've only had one conversation, Jimmy-"

"And you were far nicer to him in that conversation than you are to most people who you 'barely know!'"

Thomas stared at him, bewildered, as his retort died on his lips. Jimmy's scowl had been replaced by a look that was almost…Thomas searched for a suitable word. _Desperate? Distressed? _ Neither of these words seemed to fit.

Thomas could see fear in his expression, but there was more. He looked so _genuine,_ so honest, and they were emotions Thomas had never seen him express. He knew that he must look ridiculous, standing completely still with his eyes fixed on Jimmy, but he couldn't move. It was as though he had been frozen to the spot.

Jimmy cleared his throat as the silence stretched between them. "Well, I need to continue with my work."

"Jimmy, why were you asking me about Charlie?" Thomas blurted out without thinking, cursing himself as soon as the words had left his mouth.

_Try and calm down, Thomas…_

"I was just curious," said Jimmy quickly, turning away from Thomas.

"Does this have anything to do with the way you snapped at me when I had finished talking to him?" said Thomas suddenly.

Jimmy's cheeks coloured slightly. "No, of course not." At Thomas's pointed look, he mumbled, "Well, maybe. I was surprised that you were being so nice to him, that's all!" he added defensively as Thomas drew his brows together in a frown.

"Why should you care how I'm treating other people?" said Thomas, a hundred different suspicions racing through his mind. "And why did you snap at me for being nice to him? Not that I was any nicer to him than I usually am to people," he added.

"You were going on about how he'll get better with time and…I don't know. It just didn't seem very _you,"_ Jimmy finished helplessly.

"And is this connected to the reason why you decided you don't want to be friends with me?"

"It's not that I don't_ want_ to – I can't!" Jimmy protested.

"For the last time, just tell me why you can't," said Thomas wearily, not expecting an answer.

"Fine!"

Thomas blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. "You…you'll tell me? Tell me why you've been avoiding me?"

Jimmy took a deep breath, his cheeks heating up even more. "I…yes. I don't want to, but…" His voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I must be mad, but I'll tell you if I have to." He looked at Thomas. "Well, if you want me to."

Thomas could feel his heart rate speeding up, and, like Jimmy, he took a deep, steadying breath. "Of course I want you to! So tell me."

Jimmy swallowed. "I shouldn't even be telling you now, like I told you yesterday, it's not something to talk about in the middle of the corridor, but I might as well say it here, as I'm as ready as I'll ever be…"

Thomas nodded frantically. "Tell me, Jimmy! I don't care if you don't want to talk about it in the middle of the day, just tell me!"

Jimmy swept a hand across his forehead, which Thomas could see was damp with sweat. Although eager for Jimmy to tell him what was wrong with him, he couldn't help feeling rather alarmed.

"You alright?"

"Yes," Jimmy answered weakly. "No. I don't know."

Part of Thomas, the kinder, more caring part, considered suggesting to Jimmy that they put off this conversation until later, but the more selfish side of him felt slightly nauseous at the idea. He had spent ages going over all the different ideas to make Jimmy tell him, and here Jimmy was actually _offering_ to tell him, however unwilling he seemed.

He reached out a hand to steady Jimmy, however, the younger man flinched and moved away, leaving Thomas feeling rather self-conscious.

"Sorry," Jimmy mumbled, and Thomas was instantly aware that his hurt must be showing on his face.

"It's fine," he replied hastily.

Jimmy nodded briefly. He seemed to be mentally preparing himself for whatever he was about to say. Thomas could feel his heart thumping like a drum as Jimmy opened his mouth.

"You see," Jimmy began, talking rather hoarsely, "I…well, I enjoyed being your friend. When we first made friends, I mean."

"Right," said Thomas, nodding.

Jimmy cleared his throat. "Yes, I enjoyed being your friend a lot. We got on well."

"Yes," Thomas replied in confusion. "I know."

"_Very_ well," Jimmy repeated.

Thomas frowned at him. "Jimmy, I'm going to have to ask you to be a bit clearer."

Jimmy sighed in despair. "I _am_ being clear, if you just think about what I'm saying." He swallowed again. "We got on well and I enjoyed spending time with you. I enjoyed being in your company more than anyone else's. I, err, I began to enjoy it too much and began to...change the way I thought of you a bit." He mumbled this last sentence, and began to turn away, as though he was going to leave.

"Jimmy, this is all very nice, but you still haven't told me why you've been avoiding me!" said Thomas desperately, willing Jimmy not to walk away.

"I have," Jimmy replied quietly. "Just think about what I said."

Thomas looked after him helplessly as Jimmy ran down the hall, glancing left and right, probably on the look out for Carson, as he did so. He had rounded the corner and was out of sight before Thomas could call him back.


	7. Chapter Seven

Thomas sat at the table in the servant's hall, keeping his head lowered as he worked, deep in thought. He glanced up sharply at the sound of several footsteps, but Jimmy wasn't among the couple of people who entered the room. He lowered his head once more, feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief that the footman was nowhere to be seen.

Despite the fact that he had thought of little else ever since he and Jimmy had spoken to one another earlier in the day, he still hadn't made any progress in working out what Jimmy had meant. As far as he could make out, it sounded as though Jimmy had started avoiding him because he enjoyed being his friend too _much,_ but he knew that couldn't be right…

"What's up with you? You're not looking your best."

The voice broke into Thomas's thoughts and he felt a flash of annoyance. He didn't have to bother looking up to know it was O'Brien - he would recognise that voice anywhere. "I'm afraid you must be imagining things O'Brien," he replied coolly. "I wasn't aware that I was acting any different from usual."

"You are a bit," said Alfred eagerly. "You're all…quiet. And you look troubled. And all pale."

Thomas laughed softly. "It's called being _tired,_ Alfred. Something that happens to all of us who work hard. I know you won't understand what it feels like, but it can sometimes make you quieter or look paler than normal." He wasn't entirely sure why he was lashing out at Alfred, especially when O'Brien was near, as he knew from past experience how dangerous it was to insult her nephew.

_If I'm honest with myself, I just don't care anymore._

"I were only being concerned!" Alfred began indignantly.

"Don't worry, Alfred," said O'Brien in what Thomas assumed she thought of as a comforting voice. "You're a far harder worker than Mr Barrow. A far more deserving and honest worker."

Thomas had to suppress the urge to laugh, although he wasn't sure what it was he found amusing. "That's your opinion Miss O'Brien, and you're entitled to it," he said pleasantly, but not without a hint of sarcasm.

O'Brien laughed scornfully. "I don't believe you mean that for a second."

"Yeah, and stop being so sarcastic all the time!" Alfred added angrily.

"Well, Alfred," said Thomas, raising his eyes to look at him and O'Brien for the first time since they had sat down, "maybe you should stop being so nosy all the time and try and pay a bit more attention to your work!"

"I were only being concerned earlier," Alfred muttered resentfully.

"You've already told me that," Thomas pointed out wearily, hoping to put an end to this conversation so he could return to his thoughts.

Of course, he knew that that wouldn't be happening for a long time yet.

"Well, you're certainly grumpy about something today, aren't you?" said O'Brien, watching Thomas beadily.

Thomas sighed, scraping the chair back and standing up as he did so. "I've been working very hard, and I'm tired," he said firmly, before leaving the servant's hall with a feeling of relief.

_Nosy old hag,_ Thomas thought savagely as he strode along the corridor with no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he couldn't have stayed stuck in the servant's hall with only O'Brien and Alfred for company a moment longer. He wondered idly if O'Brien's one and only hobby was 'trying to plot against people and ruin their lives,' before remembering that there were more pressing things to think about.

The trouble was that however often he thought of what Jimmy had said, the stranger it became. If he hadn't known better, he would have considered the possibility that Jimmy was admitting he had_…feelings _for him. The thought sent a tingle down Thomas's spine. Of course, he knew that Jimmy didn't – he was straight, after all. Although he hadn't had a relationship with any of the girls at Downton…but Thomas dismissed this small, hopeful thought _(_or rather, _wish) _from his mind. Jimmy was straight, and that was that. He had been disgusted with Thomas's advances back when he had first arrived – Thomas shuddered when he remembered how he had behaved then – and he had no doubt that, someday, Jimmy would find the perfect girl. Although he wanted Jimmy to be happy, part of him was dreading this, whenever it happened.

_I suppose it's just one of these things._

"Mr Barrow?"

He glanced up and found himself face to face with Mrs Hughes.

"Yes, Mrs Hughes?" he replied lightly.

"Are you alright?" said Mrs Hughes anxiously, regarding him with concern.

"Yes, of course!" said Thomas in his brightest voice.

"Hmm…" said Mrs Hughes, looking slightly sceptical. "Well, if you do feel unwell, you have my permission to go and lie down."

"Thank you," said Thomas, smiling despite himself.

Mrs Hughes returned the smile, before continuing on her way.

It was strange, but Thomas found that he quite liked Mrs Hughes now. Not that he had ever _dis_liked her, but he had never really had any opinion of her. However, she was probably one of the few people downstairs who he genuinely liked, along with Jimmy, of course.

"Mr Barrow?"

"Yes?" said Thomas wearily, forcing the smile back onto his face. Anna was standing in front of the door leading into the kitchen, another figure Thomas couldn't quite make out hovering behind her. She was studying him closely, wearing a look almost identical to Mrs Hughes's from earlier. Thomas wondered what was so wrong with him today. It seemed as though everyone thought he was ill - probably because he had been so quiet, lost in thought, all day.

Thomas's heart skipped a beat as the figure standing behind Anna shifted slightly – it was Jimmy. He caught a glimpse of the footman's mortified face, before he moved back behind Anna.

"Mr Barrow?" Anna repeated anxiously. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine!" said Thomas quickly, trying to act normally. This was proving to be almost impossible when he knew that Jimmy, the person he had been thinking about all day, was also present.

"Right," said Anna slowly, smiling tentatively at him, but not seeming to believe him. "Well, I'd better be on my way."

Thomas nodded at her as she passed him, before turning to Jimmy, who had turned away and was staring through the kitchen window at Mrs Patmore, apparently trying to catch her eye.

"_Tell her to hurry up,"_ Thomas saw him mouth as he met Ivy's eyes, indicating Mrs Patmore. She nodded and beamed at him, clearly thrilled at the chance to do a favour for Jimmy.

"What was that about?" said Thomas quickly, watching as Ivy hurried over to Mrs Patmore. He felt a flutter of nerves as Jimmy jumped slightly and turned to face him.

"Nothing," he replied swiftly. "I'm just bored – been stuck out here for ages waiting for the dinner to be ready so I can bring it upstairs."

"Why isn't Alfred here?" said Thomas in surprise. It struck him how strange this was; he and Jimmy standing and having a normal conversation with one another. Well, it wasn't _completely_ normal, as Jimmy wasn't meeting his eyes and kept glancing repeatedly in the kitchen, fidgeting nervously, but it was still peculiar to be talking almost as though nothing had happened.

"He's late," said Jimmy, with a rather half-hearted roll of his eyes. "He'll be along soon."

As if on cue, Alfred came hurrying along the corridor, looking panicked. "I'm sorry I'm late," he blurted out as he reached them.

"It's fine," said Jimmy quickly. Thomas wondered if he was imagining it, or if there was faint relief in Jimmy's eyes.

_He's probably delighted Alfred's here – if there is someone else with us, I won't have the chance to ask him about…whatever it was he was trying to tell me._

Thomas sighed and moved away, nodding at both footmen as he went. He would have to try and talk to Jimmy later.

_Properly,_ he added inwardly._ I need to talk about what it was he meant when he was talking to me. I don't want to go around with the false hope that he might like me only to have my hopes dashed. As soon as he tells me what he really meant, the better._

He briefly considered doing as Mrs Hughes had suggested and retiring to bed, but the prospect of spending the rest of the evening cooped up in his room with only his thoughts for company made him shudder. _Much better to be working, and surrounded by other people,_ he decided.

It was strange that he would actually _prefer_ to be working, as the 'old Thomas' would have jumped at the chance of some extra time in bed, regardless of whether he was ill or not. Thomas smiled ruefully as he remembered the countless times that he had used to try and fake an illness. Although he had rarely been successful, he hadn't given up, until the war had arrived and he had left Downton. When he had returned, things like that hadn't seemed so important anymore.

_When I think about how I was just a few years ago…_

_I've definitely changed._

He eventually decided to return to the servant's hall, which he was glad to see was empty with the exception of Bates, who was seated comfortably towards the end of the table with a book.

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Shouldn't you be with his Lordship?"

"Just returned from seeing him," Bates replied, glancing up and regarding Thomas with faint suspicion.

Thomas sighed and sat down. "What is it? I'm not feeling ill, if that's what you're thinking," he added as an afterthought.

"You had a lot of people asking you that today, then?" said Bates, seeming faintly amused.

Thomas nodded. "Mrs Hughes, and, well, Anna and also O'Brien. Well, she didn't exactly ask me if I was _ill,_ just barked that I looked ugly. Or words to that effect."

Bates smiled faintly. "Well, seeing as you've been asked that question several times today, I shall refrain from questioning you about it again."

"_Thank you,"_ said Thomas feverishly, and heard him chuckle.

Things between him and Bates were still slightly awkward, but much better than they had once been. A few months ago, Thomas had thanked him tentatively for helping him, and Bates had accepted the apology. Although they still didn't talk together very often, they no longer argued or even disliked one another. Thomas preferred it this way – he was tired of being enemies with Bates. And he didn't mind talking to him, as long as the conversation didn't last for _too_ long.

"So how are you?" Thomas asked slightly uncomfortably, after several minutes of silence.

Bates nodded. "Very good, actually." He glanced up from his book. "How about you?"

"Fine," Thomas lied. "Couldn't be better, in fact."

"Glad to hear it," Bates replied gruffly, returning to his book.

"Something gives me the impression you don't believe me," said Thomas sarcastically.

"No, I don't," said Bates bluntly. "But if you don't wish to tell me what's wrong, I don't see how I can convince you."

Thomas couldn't help laughing. "Surprised you aren't asking me all about it. Sort of thing you would usually do."

"It's your business, whatever it is," Bates replied simply.

Thomas rolled his eyes – at least Bates didn't seem to suspect that he was up to no good, for once.

"Although I don't know what's wrong, I hope things improve for you," said Bates suddenly, glancing up from his book once more.

"Thank you," Thomas replied in surprise. "Nice to know I have your support. I'm not being sarcastic," he added quickly.

Bates gave a small smile. "There's a first time for everything."

Having no suitable retort, Thomas resorted to rolling his eyes.

**A/N: Hope you liked this chapter, thank you to everyone who has reviewed :)**


	8. Chapter Eight

The following morning, Thomas awoke with a sense of determination. He was still no closer to figuring out what Jimmy had meant, and the feeling of hope that Jimmy might feel the same way was increasing. He knew it was all in his imagination, but he couldn't help hoping.

Even though, deep down, he knew it would never happen.

Thomas ran through the plan in his mind as he washed and dressed. He would have to be sure to sit near Jimmy at breakfast, as it was highly likely that Jimmy wouldn't want to talk to him, and this would probably be Thomas's only chance. In fact, Jimmy was probably sitting in his room or the servant's hall now, making plans on how he could avoid Thomas.

_Not this time,_ Thomas thought grimly.

Jimmy was already seated at the table when Thomas entered the servant's hall. As usual, Alfred was blathering away to him about Ivy, which Jimmy was obviously ignoring. How Alfred could genuinely think Jimmy was interested in what he had to say was a mystery, Thomas thought wryly. Jimmy wasn't even looking at the second footman; he was peering around the room, wearing a faint frown.

"Good morning," said Thomas airily as he slid into a seat next to Jimmy.

Jimmy mumbled something inaudible, before turning away from Thomas and focusing on Alfred for the first time since Thomas had entered the room. Alfred himself still appeared annoyed after Thomas's comment yesterday and steadfastly ignored him.

"Jimmy, can we talk later?"

Jimmy turned round to face Thomas once more, clearly having anticipated this happening. His face showed no alarm; instead his expression was one of weary acceptance.

"I'm quite busy today," he said, nudging Alfred, who was craning his neck to try and catch sight of Ivy through in the kitchen. "We have a lot to do today, don't we Alfred?"

"No," Alfred replied blankly, looking puzzled.

Thomas fought back a triumphant smile as Jimmy gritted his teeth.

"Well, _I_ have a lot to do even if _he_ doesn't," he said with a disdainful glare at Alfred before he turned back to face Thomas. Thomas had to supress a smile – typical Jimmy. He never lost an opportunity to put Alfred down, although Thomas suspected it was all due to low self-esteem rather than spite. "I'm first footman, after all."

"I'm sure you'll be able to spare a few minutes to talk to me," said Thomas pointedly.

Jimmy sighed, obviously knowing when he was beaten. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "But I can't talk for long."

Thomas shrugged. "That's fine with me."

Inwardly, he was rejoicing. Hopefully, they would finally be able to talk, _properly_ talk.

Xxx

"So what's this about?" said Jimmy grumpily. He had completely disappeared after breakfast, and, between doing duties of his own, it had taken Thomas a while to find him. He had eventually caught sight of him standing in the kitchen on his own, and had wasted no time in approaching him and stating simply, "we need to talk. _Now."_

Jimmy nodded, barely suppressing a sigh, before following him unwillingly from the kitchen and into the nearest corridor. Thomas was extremely thankful that there weren't many people about – the last thing he wanted was to arouse any suspicion about him and Jimmy.

"I think you know what this is about," Thomas replied calmly. "Tell me what you meant yesterday."

"Nothing!" said Jimmy at once. "I didn't mean anything!"

"I think you did," said Thomas quietly.

"I didn't!" Jimmy protested.

Thomas sighed wearily. "Of _course_ you did Jimmy. I'm not as gullible as you seem to think I am. I'm simply asking you what it is you were trying to tell me."

Jimmy shrugged helplessly. "Thomas, I really didn't mean anything by what I said-"

Thomas could already foresee that it was going to take a _very_ long time to convince Jimmy to tell him what it was he had meant. He gritted his teeth in frustration. "Jimmy, you are being _ridiculous-"_

"Exactly _how_ am I being ridiculous?" Jimmy's voice began to rise slightly. "I didn't mean any-"

"Of course you meant something – you told me that if I thought about it, I'd work out what you meant!" Thomas snapped, his feelings of impatience increasing. "And I can tell you Jimmy, that I've thought long and hard about what you said, and I'm still no closer to working out why you've been bloody avoiding me!"

_That's not quite true; you _do_ have a theory…_

_Shut up Thomas - stop wishing for something to happen that never will! You _know_ it won't, don't get your hopes up…_

Unfortunately, however many times he told himself to stop hoping that Jimmy had meant_…that,_ the more hopeful he felt.

"Err, are you alright, you look a bit flushed…" Jimmy's voice trailed off as he eyed Thomas anxiously.

"Fine," Thomas replied dismissively, pushing his ridiculous thoughts away.

_Because that's what they are, ridiculous._

"Anyway," said Thomas, pulling himself together, "are you going to tell me what you meant?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"No," said Jimmy simply. "Because I didn't mean anything."

Thomas glared at him, his insides burning with anger and frustration. "Well, if you want to be a coward and-"

"I am _not_ being a coward!" Jimmy snarled. "I don't have anything to tell you-"

"Stop _saying _that!" Thomas exploded. "I'm not going to believe you, however many times you try and tell me you didn't mean anything. _Please _just tell me what you meant."

Jimmy stared at the ground. "I…have you honestly not worked it out yet?"

Thomas shook his head, feeling his heart begin to thump. If it was supposed to be _easy_ to work out, he could be right…

_No,_ he told himself firmly._ You're not, and you know that deep down._

"It's hard for me to just tell you outright what it is," said Jimmy, his voice shaking slightly.

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "So you _did _mean to tell me something?"

Jimmy's shoulders sagged in defeat. He gave a quick jerk of the head, apparently unable to speak out loud.

"Then tell me what you meant!" Thomas exclaimed.

Jimmy shook his head helplessly. "I pretty much have!"

"You may think that you have told me, but I still don't know what you meant," said Thomas in a steady voice.

Jimmy swallowed and raised his head slightly. His blue eyes were full of…_fear?_ Thomas stepped forward and (rather awkwardly) squeezed Jimmy's shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. He felt the muscles under his hand stiffen, but surprisingly Jimmy didn't move away.

"Jimmy, whatever this is, I won't judge you," he told the younger man softly. "Please tell me what's wrong."

"I will," Jimmy mumbled. "Just give me a minute to think."

The two men stood in silence until Thomas couldn't bear it any longer. "Jimmy?" he said hesitantly.

"We…we should be getting back to work now," said Jimmy quickly, looking at Thomas almost pleadingly.

"_No,"_ said Thomas firmly. "Neither of us is particularly busy at this time of day, and this should only take a few minutes. So don't try and use that excuse on me again."

Jimmy bit his lip. "I told you yesterday that, after we made friends, I soon began to like you a lot," he began hesitantly. "I liked you more than I had thought I would. And, as I said yesterday, my…_feelings_ towards you began to change."

Thomas nodded. Hearing Jimmy saying this all out loud brought the feelings of hope flooding back. He took a deep breath, cursing his stupid imagination, and focused on what Jimmy was saying.

"I started pushing you away because-" Jimmy broke off, a frown beginning to form on his face. "Do you _really_ have no idea what it is I'm trying to say?"

Thomas shook his head. "It…it sounds as though you started pushing me away because you liked being my friend more than you thought you would, but that makes no sense."

Jimmy sighed. "No, that makes no sense at all. And it most certainly _isn't _the reason."

"I didn't think it would be," said Thomas sheepishly.

Jimmy opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Mrs Hughes, who came hurrying down the corridor. She stopped short when she caught sight of them.

"Don't you have work to be doing, James?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Thomas ground his teeth in frustration, his new-found liking for Mrs Hughes disappearing at once as Jimmy hurried past her, mumbling apologies.

"Mr Barrow, I would imagine that you have work to be getting on with as well," said Mrs Hughes, fixing him with a stern but kind eye.

"Yes," Thomas replied quickly. "Sorry, we were just talking-"

"You aren't in any trouble," said Mrs Hughes, smiling at him so warmly that Thomas felt his anger melting. "Just don't let me catch you talking again when you have work to be doing."

"You won't," Thomas assured her. He returned the smile and headed down the corridor after Jimmy.

Unfortunately, as the day passed, it proved impossible to get hold of Jimmy which put Thomas in a foul mood. The anger burned inside him like fire all day, making it almost impossible to focus on his work. To be so close to _finally_ learning what was wrong with Jimmy and to have him forced to leave at the last minute was incredibly frustrating, to say the least. He snapped at anyone who addressed him, and by the end of the day the staff all seemed to have got the message that he didn't want to talk to anybody and left him well alone.

This came as a relief to Thomas, however, he still hadn't calmed down when the evening arrived and the time came when the staff usually began retiring to bed. He wasn't sure how he was ever going to be able to get to sleep when the anger and frustration continued to simmer inside him.

"Thomas? Can we talk?"

Thomas glanced round sharply, having just stood up to leave and go to bed. "Wha-"

The word died on his lips as he realised that it was_ Jimmy_ standing there. He had to blink a few times to check his eyes weren't deceiving him. Jimmy had actually come up to_ him_ to have a conversation? Thomas could hardly remember the last time that had happened, especially as he had thought that, after today, Jimmy would increase his efforts even more into avoiding him, if that was possible.

"Can we talk?" Jimmy repeated.

"Yes, of course!" said Thomas hoarsely. It suddenly struck him that they were not alone in the servant's hall, and he turned to look at Jimmy. "We can go outside to talk."

Jimmy nodded and they made their way outside in silence. Thomas's feeling of nerves increased with every step he took. He found that he couldn't pluck up the courage to even look at Jimmy, who was striding along next to him, his head down.

As soon as they were safely out of the house, Thomas broke the silence.

"So what do you want to talk to me about, Jimmy?" He wished it wasn't summer; he could see Jimmy's face through the dusk and he would have much preferred not to be able to see him through the dark. _If it was winter, it would be dark already_, he thought wistfully.

"I wanted to talk to you about earlier," said Jimmy, replying swiftly and without the hint of a tremor in his voice. "I want to tell you what I would have told you before, if Mrs Hughes hadn't interrupted."

Thomas stared at him in shock, wondering if he had misheard. "You…you're actually going to tell me?"

"Yes," Jimmy replied firmly. "I can't keep putting it off."

"But what's brought this on?" Thomas asked faintly, his head in a whirl. "You were terrified just a few hours ago-"

"I was not!" said Jimmy indignantly.

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say. But seriously Jimmy, what_ has_ brought this on?"

"I've been thinking about it all day," Jimmy began hesitantly, "and I realise how pointless it is to keep trying to put it off."

"You're right there!" said Thomas feverishly.

Jimmy smiled faintly. "Anyway, I've spent the rest of today preparing myself for what I'm going to say, and I'm ready to tell you now." He took a deep breath. "You see, my feelings begun to change for you the longer we were friends, and they developed into…something more. I'm sure you can work out what I mean when I say that. I guess I.." He swallowed. "I fell in love with you." The last sentence was said in a rush, the words tumbling out, one on top of the other.

The world seemed to spin. Thomas wondered fleetingly if Jimmy would be able to hear his heart thumping. He could feel the hope starting to rise in his chest again, and he took a couple of deep gasps of air, suddenly feeling faint.

"Thomas?" He could feel a hand gripping his arm, steadying him. "Thomas, are you alright?"

"Fine," Thomas managed to croak.

_Had Jimmy really just said what he had thought he said?_

"I didn't mean to alarm you," he heard Jimmy say anxiously.

Thomas shook his head feverishly, opening his eyes which he was barely aware had been closed. "I'm fine, it's just a…shock, that's all. But a nice shock," he added hastily.

Jimmy smiled weakly. "It cost me a lot to say that."

Thomas ran a hand across his damp brow. There were so many emotions tumbling through him; it was hard to distinguish what they all were. "But if you…" He swallowed. "If you_ loved_ me, why did you go out of your way to avoid me?"

Jimmy was silent for a long time. Thomas was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to answer when Jimmy burst out; "I was scared!"

"Scared?" Thomas repeated blankly.

"Scared of my feelings towards you – I had to try and come to terms with the fact that I was, well…" Jimmy's voice trailed off as he searched for a suitable phrase. "Not attracted to woman."

"That makes sense now," Thomas replied quietly. "When I think about what you've just said, I can see why you would try and avoid me."

"Yes!" Jimmy sounded both relieved and delighted that Thomas had accepted his reason why he had avoided him. "I thought that if I stayed away from you, my…_attraction _to you would fade. But it didn't, obviously."

Thomas felt his knees weaken slightly as Jimmy said the words, _"attraction to you."_ He had dreamed of this kind of thing ever since he had met the younger man. He smiled at Jimmy and slid a hand through his. He wanted to talk to him, to tell him just how much he loved him, but he couldn't gather the words together to say anything remotely intelligible.

"I'm glad you told me," he managed to say hoarsely. _"Very_ glad."

Jimmy laughed nervously. He was slowly leaning in closer, closer and closer until he reached a shaking hand up and threaded it through Thomas's hair. Thomas's heart felt as though it was going to explode with joy as he closed the remaining distance between them and pressed his lips against Jimmy's.

Jimmy was tentative and cautious, but Thomas didn't care. The fact that he was actually_ kissing _Jimmy, who seemed enthusiastic about it, if rather inexperienced, was enough to satisfy him for life.

_Well, for now,_ Thomas thought dazedly as Jimmy eventually pulled back from him, panting slightly.

"Are we-" Thomas stammered, all sense of pride and dignity forgotten as he tried to stop himself from crying out of pure happiness.

"Yes," Jimmy replied quietly. "If you want."

Thomas laughed shakily. "Of course I do!"

A wide smile spread across Jimmy's face. Without replying, he pressed his lips to Thomas's once more.

As Thomas reached up a hand to caress Jimmy's blond hair, he wondered if he had ever felt so happy before in his life.

**A/N: I'm sorry for the terrible kissing scene – I've always been awful at writing things like that! In case anyone is wondering how many more chapters there is going to be in this story, there's only going to be two or three chapters left. That's what I'm thinking now, anyway. I'm already planning ANOTHER Thomas/Jimmy multi chaptered fic, I'm really obsessed with them right now!**

**I hope you liked this chapter anyway – as always, thank you to everyone who has reviewed this fic! Reviews always motivate me, and I'm so grateful to know what people think about my work :)**


	9. Chapter Nine

"You're looking cheerful today," Bates commented the following morning.

Thomas quickly wiped the smile off his face as O'Brien's head turned sharply in his direction._ Best not to appear happy around her, unless I want her to try and ruin my life again._

"Really? Well, I don't know why that would be – I don't feel any different from normal," he replied casually, his heart skipping a beat as Jimmy entered the servant's hall. He purposely avoided meeting the younger man's eyes and focused on Mr Bates, who was eyeing him doubtfully.

"I'll take your word for it," he said wryly.

"Why are you here, anyway?" said Thomas quickly, changing the subject before it reached dangerous territory. "You and Anna always have your breakfast at your little cottage, don't you?"

Bates accepted the change of subject. "Mr Carson asked us to arrive here earlier than normal today – we're going to be very busy today with all the guests arriving, after all."

Thomas groaned inwardly. He had forgotten all about the guests who had come to stay at Downton for a couple of weeks, despite the fact that Carson had spoken of little else for the last month or so. However, as he glanced across the table and met Jimmy's eyes, it was hard to stay miserable. He and Jimmy exchanged a small smile before they broke eye contact and focused on the conversations going on around them.

The day turned out to be even busier than Thomas had expected, and he hardly saw Jimmy. However, he didn't really mind. He spent the whole day with a small smile on his face, which he had to struggle to hide whenever he caught sight of O'Brien. Although she appeared to be too occupied with her duties to be interested in stirring up trouble, he knew better. O'Brien could _never_ be so busy that she lost a chance of spreading rumours or plotting against someone. For that reason, he made sure to keep his expression neutral whenever he was around her or Carson, as the latter would most likely think he wasn't working hard enough if he was actually _smiling._

As the day drew to a close, things gradually grew less hectic. Rejoicing at the opportunity of _maybe_ getting the chance to exchange at least a couple of words with Jimmy, Thomas made his way over to where the footman was standing. He was slowly drawing nearer to Jimmy, who had spotted him and was wearing a cautious but genuine smile, when Charlie hurried up to him.

"Excuse me, Mr Barrow? Do you know where the polish is?"

"You already asked me that a few days ago," said Thomas distractedly, pointing over to the cupboard. "It's there, remember?"

Charlie shook his head. "Someone's moved it."

"Well then, I don't know," Thomas replied wearily. "Try asking Mr Carson."

Charlie looked utterly terrified at this prospect. "Thank you Mr Barrow," he replied quietly with a nod.

Thomas watched him scurry out of the room, and turned his attention back to Jimmy, who was looking surly. Thomas approached him with a feeling of apprehension, mixed with exasperation.

_He's angry because a hall boy I hardly know asked me a question?_

_That had better not have put him in a bad mood…_

"Jimmy, how about we meet outside after everyone has gone to bed?" said Thomas in a low voice as he reached the younger man. Jimmy nodded curtly.

"Fine," he replied shortly.

Thomas nodded briefly and turned away, colliding with Alfred in the process.

"Watch where you're-" Thomas began to snap, before he caught sight of Mrs Hughes out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, sorry about that, Alfred." He cringed inwardly as Alfred beamed.

"Quite alright, Mr Barrow," he assured him, straightening his uniform and drawing himself up in pride. "At least no one was hurt."

_You will be if you don't stop acting like you're my superior,_ Thomas thought, although he was careful not to express this thought out loud. Shaking his head, he hurried out of the room, wondering exactly how and why Alfred was proud of himself because someone had apologised to him.

_Sometimes I seriously wonder how his mind works…_

Thomas stayed behind in the servant's hall that night as, one by one, the staff began to retire to bed. He had no idea where Jimmy was, but he guessed that Carson had probably given him extra duties._ Typical._

It was slowly getting later and later and sitting with only the newspaper for company soon grew dull, mostly because Thomas had already read it cover to cover about three times. He was just beginning to wonder if he should go to bed – his heart sank at the prospect that maybe Jimmy didn't want to talk to him for some reason – but the arrival of the footman stopped Thomas in his tracks.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" said Jimmy hastily, as Thomas paused, having just risen from his seat. "Carson made me polish some of the silver for tomorrow, it took me bloody _ages."_

"I did wonder if he'd given you extra work," said Thomas, already heading towards the door. "Come on, let's talk outside. I'm dying for a cigarette."

"Couldn't you have had one inside?" said Jimmy in surprise.

Thomas shrugged. "I could have, but I always prefer to smoke outside. The room can sometimes get stuffy if I smoke indoors."

Jimmy nodded in understanding. He followed Thomas outside, and shut the door gently behind them.

As soon as the door was safely shut, Thomas turned to look at Jimmy properly, a wide smile gracing his face. "I've wanted to talk to you all day," he said softly, stepping forward and kissing the other man gently. It felt strange to actually be _kissing_ Jimmy like he had always used to fantasise doing (although he decided not to tell Jimmy that, unsure how comfortable he'd feel with that information.)

Jimmy kissed him back with slightly more confidence than the night before. As Thomas pulled away, Jimmy looked away from him, choosing to stare up at the grey sky instead.

"I hope you're not in a mood because I spoke to Charlie for about half a minute," said Thomas with mock sternness. "Because there is no need to be jealous of him Jimmy-"

"I'm not jealous!" said Jimmy quickly, tearing his gaze away from the sky and focusing back on Thomas.

"I hope not!" said Thomas, shaking his head in disapproval. "As if I would ever choose a _hall boy_ over you!"

Jimmy suddenly snorted with laughter. "Even I have to admit that it _does_ sound funny when you put it like that."

"Why _were _you ever jealous of him anyway?" Thomas asked, genuinely curious. "We barely spoke to one another – I think we've only ever had about three conversations, all of which lasted for about a minute."

Jimmy shrugged. "I was never really_ jealous_ as such. I wasn't!" he protested as Thomas raised his eyebrows sceptically. "I suppose it made me think that you could easily find someone else if I didn't talk to you soon – I wasn't ever jealous of Charlie himself."

"I see," said Thomas slowly. "But you were still annoyed that I exchanged a couple of words with him today."

"I wasn't really, I was just…" Jimmy broke off and shook his head in confusion. "I don't actually know exactly what I was annoyed about. I suppose I just forgot for a minute that we're, well, together, and I'm so used to feeling envious whenever I see you talking to any men…" He shrugged uncomfortably. "But I'm not going to be all possessive and forbid you from talking to any other man!" he added hastily.

Thomas's face broke out into a smile. "I'm glad to hear that." He pulled Jimmy in for another kiss, a feeling of great contentment settling over him.

The rest of the evening passed even better than Thomas could have hoped. He and Jimmy seemed to talk about everything that came to their minds; family, ambitions, childhood, the people they knew. They spent a happy time abusing O'Brien and Alfred, although they admitted that Alfred wasn't really that bad, just annoying.

"He's better than his aunt by far!" said Thomas, raising a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn.

"That doesn't mean much – it isn't hard to be better than _her!" _said Jimmy scornfully. "Although I do feel quite sorry for him, imagine being stuck with O'Brien as an aunt!"

Thomas laughed. "I don't even want to imagine being part of her family!" He sighed and stubbed out his cigarette. "We'd better get to bed, we're going to be exhausted tomorrow."

Jimmy nodded and kissed him once more. "Night," he whispered.

"Night," said Thomas softly. His heart felt warm with a glow of happiness.

**A/N: Apologies to anyone who is hoping for M-rated content, I'm AWFUL at writing anything M rated. Sorry!**

**There will be an epilogue after this, and then that will be the end of this fic. As usual, thank you to the people who have followed, reviewed or favourited this fic, I'm really overwhelmed that some people actually like this story as I honestly didn't think anyone would even read it – thank you! :)**


	10. Chapter Ten: Epilogue

**Six months later…**

"Jimmy!" Thomas hissed as he passed the other man in one of the narrow corridors. Jimmy's head turned sharply in his direction, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Meet me in the usual spot tonight?"

Jimmy nodded, his smile widening, and he glanced around swiftly to ensure that no one was there before heading down the corridor and brushing Thomas's arm briefly as he passed.

Thomas watched him leave and savoured the warm happiness flooding through him. Although he and Jimmy had to be careful with showing the slightest bit of affection to one another when in the presence of others, (and Thomas was well aware how lucky he and Jimmy were not to have been caught yet), it didn't stop them from being happy together. Despite the fact that the only time they could ever really talk properly was in the evenings once the rest of the staff were safely in bed, neither of them regretted their relationship in the slightest. It was sometimes hard, and often very frustrating, but they managed to cope with it.

_As long as we're together, I'm happy, _Thomas thought sincerely.

Jimmy was slightly later than usual that evening, and Thomas had slowly been growing bored waiting for him. He raised his eyebrows when Jimmy stepped outside. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry," said Jimmy quickly. "Carson gave me extra duties _again."_ He shook his head, annoyed. "He really does dislike me."

"It's nothing to do with his opinion of you," said Thomas, lighting a cigarette. "You're first footman, so it's natural that you will be given extra duties. And remember, if you do the work well, you'll make a good impression on Mr Carson. So be sure not to complain about it, because that certainly won't do you any favours."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "I would never dare to complain! I doubt Carson would like it. Anyway…" He took a step towards Thomas, a smile beginning to bloom on his face. "How are you today? We've barely spoke."

"I've been busy all day," said Thomas apologetically.

Jimmy shook his head. "I don't mind, not really. We can talk now." He leant forward and pressed his lips against Thomas's.

Thomas kissed him back, the familiar feeling of joy mixed with nerves swooping through his stomach. He had kissed Jimmy so many times now, yet he still felt as though he was going to explode with happiness whenever their lips met.

Jimmy pulled back and smiled at him, picking up Thomas's injured hand and holding it gently. Just having Jimmy touch him sent tingles down Thomas's spine. He bent in to kiss the blond man again.

As he pulled back, Jimmy smiled and shook his head. "I can't believe how natural it feels for me to do that now," he said.

"Do what?" Thomas asked, his brow creased in a small frown.

"Kiss you," Jimmy replied simply. "A few months ago, I would never have considered doing something like that, not so much because I didn't want to, but because I was sure it would feel…strange, I suppose. But it feels so _right _now." He shrugged. "I know I didn't put that very well, but-"

"No, I understand what you mean," Thomas interrupted. "And I used to feel the same, when I was your age. But I realised it was just part of who I was, and I accepted it." He smiled and squeezed Jimmy's hand lightly. "I'm so glad you managed to accept your own feelings too."

Jimmy returned the smile. "I'm just as glad."

Thomas shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if I deserve to be this happy."

"What do you mean?" Jimmy looked at him, his blue eyes slightly alarmed. "Thomas, you are a good man, and you deserve every bit of happiness-"

"I don't," Thomas interrupted firmly. "But I appreciate what you're saying."

"I mean every word of it!" said Jimmy. "I wouldn't make it up."

"I know," Thomas replied lightly. "And I'm glad you feel that way about me."

"I would never have fallen in love with you if you were a horrible person!" said Jimmy, shaking his head. "I thought you would know that."

Thomas sighed. "Yes, I know. And I know that not many people like me, but _you_ do, and that means a lot."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "More people like you than you think, you know. Well, O'Brien doesn't, but she doesn't matter."

Thomas laughed. "No, she doesn't really count as a person. She could pass as, I don't know, a sea monster, maybe?"

"Don't be mean about O'Brien!" said Jimmy in mock sternness. "I understand you're jealous of her wonderful hair, but that's no excuse for rudeness."

It was Thomas's turn to roll his eyes. "Very funny."

Jimmy shrugged. "I thought it_ was_ quite funny actually."

"I don't mean to be rude, but that wasn't the greatest joke in the world," said Thomas, yawning. "Is it just me who's exhausted?"

"No, you're not alone with that feeling," said Jimmy, already heading towards the door. "Do you want to go inside – we could go up to my room or yours?"

Thomas stubbed out his cigarette and followed Jimmy over to the door, wearing a smile. "My room? I'll have to wake you up early tomorrow morning though, so you can be safely out of my room before it's time to get up."

Jimmy grinned. "Fine with me."

Thomas followed Jimmy into the house with the familiar feeling of excitement rising in his chest.

Even though he and Jimmy would never be able to marry one another, or express their affection for one another freely, he still couldn't be happier. They loved one another, and nothing would ever change that.

**A/N: Hope this was an okay ending, I had no idea how to end this! I hope this chapter wasn't too short, I really struggled with thinking of a sutiable ending.**

**Thank you to everyone who has read this, and particular thanks to those who reviewed, followed or favourited this fic! :)**

**I'll be writing another multi chaptered Thomas/Jimmy fic soon, although I'm not sure when. But I'll definitely be writing one in the near future!**


End file.
